Read All About It
by Omnicat
Summary: Bucky and Peggy love each other and hate the twenty-first century. So. Much. Hate.


**Title:** Read All About It

 **Author:** Omnicat

 **Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge:** Joe Johnson & co's _Captain America: the First Avenger_ , Joss Whedon & co's _The Avengers_ , and the Russo brothers & co's _Captain America: the Winter Soldier_.

 **Warnings:** Background character death.

 **Characters & Relationships:** Bucky x Peggy, with mentions of Steve

 **Summary:** Bucky and Peggy love each other and hate the twenty-first century. _So much hate._

 **Author's Note:** Enjoy!

 **II-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-I-oOo-I-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-II**

 **Read All About It**

In this day and age it was inevitable, they supposed, that it came out sooner than they were ready for rather than later. The future was a terrible, no good place where people had forgotten the meaning of respect, and decency, and where everyone felt entitled to every part of other people's lives every second of every hour of every goddamn day, where they forgot other people were _people_ , where sticking your nose in where it didn't belong was a national pastime and the lives of strangers were reduced to mere –

"You sound like an old man, James," Peggy groaned into the couch pillows.

"I _am_ an old man!" Bucky went on, redirecting all the steam from his agitated pacing into more vehemence. "I'M A NINETY-FIVE YEAR OLD DISABLED VETERAN P-O-DOUBLE-U AND YOU'D ALL BE HAILING HYDRA IF IT WASN'T FOR ME," he shouted out the window. "And –" Finally, he faltered. "And Steve – he was – he would've – we –"

As Peggy pushed herself up into a sitting position, Bucky wilted, collapsing in on himself on the couch.

"Ugh. It's none of their business," he finished miserably, dropping his head in his remaining hand. "And don't call me James."

Peggy sighed and steeled herself. She'd so hoped to be able to avoid the elephant in the room. She'd been hoping everyone would politely refrain from ever mentioning it, period. That Captain America's old flame falling into a relationship with Captain America's old right hand man would be too much of a scandal to be allowed to see the light of day. Before, back _home_ , such news would never have made it to press.

"Look," she said curtly. "You're not stealing me from Steve. You're not stealing me from Steve's memory. I'm not betraying him by moving on with you, or by moving on, period. I'm not settling for you like some second-rate consolation prize just because I've lost him. And we're certainly not, either of us, feeble enough of mind to like each other for no other reason than having no other familiar faces to turn to in this – this godforsaken, science fiction nonsense, bloody madhouse of a future. It _is_ none of their business, and they don't know a bloody thing."

His expression softening, Bucky straightened up, put his arm around her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Yes, ma'am."

They relaxed into each other gradually as tense muscles loosened and blood pressures receded. The pile of garbage sitting on the coffee table in front of them was just words on paper. The television – well, neither of them had had one before the war, let alone during. Who needed it?

(They'd get rid of the black scuff mark Peggy had left on the wall when she threw the remote _somehow_.)

"I had a crush on you from the moment I saw you, you know," Bucky admitted.

"I know."

"But since you and Steve were – you know – I was trying to be a gentleman about it."

"You were."

"And Private Lorraine was really persuasive in the meantime."

" _Ugh._ "

Grinning, Bucky kissed her again. "Just kidding."

"You'd better be."

"It was a nurse from Westminster. She just _hated_ listening to me speak. Never let me get a word in edgewise before, uh..."

"Well, I imagine she'd found better uses for your mouth," Peggy agreed, pinching his cheeks together with an tart smile.

"She died twenty years ago," Bucky told her with some difficulty.

Peggy pushed him away. "Oh, I don't care."

"Of course you don't," Bucky agreed, obviously humoring her, and pushed himself right back against her. "Just saying. Dead as a doornail. Just like all the rest of them. Well, except Rebecca. And your sister-in-law."

"And Dugan. And all those nieces and nephews we somehow wound up with."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Unlike you, I'd prefer not to feel so old quite yet. And the sister-in-law was enough of a surprise in and of itself, I think."

"Well, look at it this way," Bucky said. "We're still younger than Howard's kid."

Peggy huffed. " _He_ doesn't seem to have a problem with his whole life being plastered across every front page. Must be genetic."

"Let's face it, Howard loved that shit."

"You don't know the half of it. I'm not sure I'm even allowed to tell you how often we had to –"

And just like that, Peggy had an epiphany.

"Let's roast marshmallows. _And film it on our multi-phones._ "

Bucky gave her a bewildered look. "What?"

"Roast marshmallows. Over an open fire. On the roof."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"Roast them over _what?_ "

"That," she said, pointing at the foul, character-defaming stack of newspapers and magazines.

The light of understanding dawning in James Barnes' eyes was a beautiful sight to behold. "You're a genius."

"And don't you know it."

"I'll run to the store real quick."

"No, I'm coming with you. We'll need more kindling than this. In fact," she said, standing. "Let's buy out the whole damn kiosk. We'll put the whole bloody lot of it to a better use. Have a barbecue. I've been wanting to try one of those newfangled Yankee traditions."

"If we're eating on the roof anyway, we can throw paper airplanes through the windows across the street."

"We'd have to deface the relevant articles before throwing them at people though. Wouldn't want to give them the wrong impression."

"Of course, of course. And I love future toilet paper, but I'd revert back to wartime standards and wipe my ass with these rags for the good cause," Bucky said as he fetched their entire collection of canvas bags from the hallway closet.

Tucking her wallet into her purse with a huff, Peggy marched past him without sparing him a glance. "And you would be thanked for your contribution, but not by me. There are some things I don't want to know about you no matter how intimate we are."

"There's probably obscenity laws against distributing such material, anyway," Bucky said breezily, locking the door behind him. "But it's the thought that counts. It's more satisfying that way when we tell people about it on the birdcall thing."

"Twitter."

Bucky put his arm around her waist, and Peggy let him. To hell with keeping it to themselves, anyway. "Sweetheart, I love you like the day is long, but correcting my disparaging future jokes ruins the whole point of them."

"Oh, shush. I'll stop ruining your jokes when you stop telling such terrible ones."


End file.
